


midnight blue

by nydoorin



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beau hates the holidays, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Blood, but only mentioned, mentioned shadowgast and fjorester as well, nothing graphic just Yasha cleaning it off, physical injury, she’s trying your honor, the mighty nein - Freeform, yasha is there for her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28440918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nydoorin/pseuds/nydoorin
Summary: in which beau is forced to deal with her feelings once and for all
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 4
Kudos: 172





	midnight blue

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 1am while listening to amy winehouse, enjoy my pals

Beau didn’t care for traditions much, her asshole father made sure to ruin anything that had the vaguest of connections to family gatherings. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel the sting of solitude on holidays, especially ones where her friends, her new family, couldn’t spend with her. So she did the next best thing to pass those days by: drink obscene amounts of alcohol and let her temper get the better of her.

You know, as one does.

And that was how she ended up on a random wet curb outside of an inn she frequented often with her now absent friends, clutching her aching ribs as the rain poured down her hunched form, dulling the throbbing in her face where a stranger’s fist connected too many times to count. 

Healthy coping mechanisms be damned.

Beau, in her drunken, beaten up haze, realized that she was in no shape to walk back home, and that, predictably, she had dropped her wallet sometime between receiving the first and sixth punch. A low groan escaped her, realizing that she’ll have to call someone to pick her up, like the liability she is.

Jester would slap her across the back of her head if she heard the way she was talking about herself now, Beau realized, and giggled slightly to herself.

She reached in inside her bra to the small, old phone she used on nights like this. Through experience, she learned that a bra was the best place to keep your last ticket home when you were getting shitfaced, both because it wouldn’t be stolen and couldn’t be dropped. It was one of the few smart things she came up with, after losing too many phones on nights that she couldn’t exactly recall. 

She opened it and scrolled through the few contacts she kept there, assessing her options, which seemed to be getting more limited by the second.

Fjord and Jester, who were in Nicodranas to visit Marion, were not an option, and neither were Caleb and Essek, who were back in Xhorhas, visiting Essek’s family. Veth was spending time with her family in Felderwin, and so was Caduceus, who was back at the Blooming Grove as he often was whenever the opportunity presented itself.

That left her with one option, and she wasn’t a big fan of it.

It’s not that Beau didn’t like Yasha, the problem was the stark opposite. She liked Yasha too much, to the point where she did something stupid on Jester’s birthday party a few weeks back, and hasn’t had the guts to speak to her since then, despite the fact that Yasha reached out, multiple times.

Feelings, _romantic feelings_ , weren’t exactly Beau’s favored terrain. She knew how to seduce and please a woman like she knew the back of her hand, it came easy to her. Creating something meaningful, something durable, however, was a whole other story that terrified Beau. She couldn’t grasp the concept of someone liking her enough to want to stick around, to deal with her bad days and hot temper and messy habits. How could she? When the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally were too repulsed by her to keep her around? Sending her instead to a private boarding school, and kicking her out of home when she turned 18, with a pouch of gold that they thought, somehow, would fix everything?

Begrudgingly, Beau touched the small phone icon on the cracked, water spattered screen of her phone, and held her breath as the ringing noises filled her ear. Her heart was leaping inside her chest, climbing all the way up to her dry throat, threatening to jump out of her mouth at the smallest of openings.

The ringing went on and on, until Beau suddenly realized, to her horror, that it was probably extremely late, and that Yasha shouldn’t have to deal with her sorry ass after so many weeks of radio silence. This was stupid, she should hang u-

“Hello?”

Beau’s world came to a screeching halt upon hearing Yasha’s soft, sleepy voice. She suddenly forgot how to form coherent sentences, words were a foreign concept to her. Human communication? never heard of it.

“Hello?” Yasha said again, annoyance creeping into her tone.

“Uhm, h-hi, Yasha, it’s me, Beau, Beauregard, your, err, friend.” _Very smooth, Beauregard. Very smooth._

A beat of silence passed, and Beau had to check that she didn’t accidentally hang up on Yasha. Nope, still going.

“Oh,” Yasha said, an emotion that Beau couldn’t quite grasp evident in her voice. “Hello, Beau. Is everything okay?”

“I, no actually. I’m outside our usual inn, and, um, I don’t think I can walk home tonight, and I dropped my wallet somewhere inside, but they kicked me out so I can’t go in, so I can’t haul a cab, and everyone else is out of town, so I have no choice but to bother you. Fuck, I’m rambling.” Beau went on, seemingly unable to stop herself. She was glad that Yasha wasn’t there, because she could feel the biggest blush climbing up her neck and coloring the tips of her ears bright red.

“Okay, stay put. I’ll be there in five minutes.” Yasha said before hanging up, leaving a mortified Beau to her thoughts.

She spent the next few minutes overthinking her decision to the sound of rain hitting the soaked grounds, which honestly helped calm the train wreck that was the inside of her head. She knew that calling Yasha was the only solution that didn’t end up with her spending the night on the streets (something she had done before, but not while it was pouring outside). Pulling up her leather jacket over her head, Beau tried to breathe evenly through the combination of nerves and rib ache she felt, which proved harder than initially thought. 

A few minutes later, Yasha’s headlamps illuminated the street, bringing Beau out of her thoughts and to her feet. She attempted to walk, before she stumbled and fell, underestimating her drunkenness and the state of her ribs. _Fuck, those boots must’ve been made from steel_ , she thought as she heaved out a breath, before hearing the slamming of a car door and the sound of shoes hitting the wet asphalt approaching rapidly.

A big, warm hand was placed on Beau’s shoulder, while the other looped around her waist as she stood back up slowly. She lifted her head up to find mismatched eyes already looking at her, studying her beaten up face, with worry visible in them as clear as daylight.

“Sorry,” Beau said instinctively.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Come on, let’s go home.” Yasha said gently, lowering Beau into the passenger seat before getting into the car herself.

“I got water all over your car,” Beau said after a little over two minutes into the drive, trying to break the stifling silence inside the car. She couldn’t help but notice how utterly exhausted she sounded, how utterly exhausted she _felt_.

“My wet seats are the least of my worries now, Beau.” Yasha responded, glancing at Beau before focusing on the road once again.

“They shouldn’t be.” Beau said, before noticing that Yasha passed the turn that should take them to her building. “Hey, my apartment is that way,”

“We’re not going to your apartment.” Yasha said simply.

“Why not?”

“Because you can barely stand up, Beauregard. I’m not leaving you alone like this.” Yasha explained, glancing back and forth between Beau and the road.

“Well, you should.” Beau grumbled.

“I won’t.” came Yasha’s reply, loaded with a sense of finality that left Beau speechless.

She sighed and laid her head back, too tired to argue, and watched the lights of Zadash dance across the rain drops on her window, loving the way it filled her with serenity. She used to hate rain and storms before she met Yasha, but a few weeks with the woman taught her to see the beauty in them, or maybe she just liked watching Yasha’s face when she talked about storms, all bright and uncharacteristically bubbly. She couldn’t tell, and she was fine with that. 

The car came to a stop a little while later, and Yasha jumped out and helped Beau before she could get one leg out of the car. Slowly, they made their way up the stairs and into the warm, sweet scented interior of Yasha’s apartment. They moved to the couch, and carefully, Yasha sat Beau down before disappearing into her bathroom, where Beau could hear the sound of rummaging and cabinets opening and closing.

A minute later, Yasha emerged with a first aid kit under her arm, a bunch of white towels, and a bowl of clear water in her hands. She sat them down on the table before plopping down next to Beau, turning the smaller woman to her.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you too much.” Yasha said in a voice even lower than usual, and Beau didn’t trust herself to talk when they were this close and Yasha was taking care of her. So she just nodded, and hoped that the sound of the sloshing water covered the thunderous thrumming of her heart.

Yasha held Beau’s chin gingerly with one hand, while the other slowly cleaned off her bloodied face with a feathery light touch. Beau, on the other hand, couldn’t take her eyes off of Yasha, mesmerized by the way her entire being was so intently focused on the task at hand, how she took her lower lip between her teeth in concentration, the slight frown that made her eyebrows dip, just a touch, and the white roots beginning to show in her black hair.

Beau was in love, and she didn’t have the first idea about what to do. But she figured that an apology for being an ass would be a nice start.

“I’m sorry.” Beau said quietly, remaining still in Yasha’s hand.

“About?” Yasha replied nonchalantly, dipping the stained towel in a bowl of now pale pink water, before bringing it back up to Beau’s cheek.

“Not responding after... you know. Running away like the coward I am, not treating you with the respect you deserve. Just for a start.” Beau said, hating the way her voice broke and how her eyes burned. She hated feelings.

Yasha’s eyes flickered up to hers momentarily, teal and purple searching bright blue, before she focused back on Beau’s bloody cheek. “It’s okay, Beau. You did something you regretted and you couldn’t face it, it happens.”

The easy thing, the _Beau_ thing to do was to agree with what Yasha just said, but Beau would be a massive liar if she said that she didn’t spend nearly each night dreaming about the soft curves of Yasha’s warm, sweet lips, and how they contrasted with the sharp edges of her jaw as Beau held her face and kissed her, tasting cherry wine and getting drunk on it. She was sick of feeling like a coward. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the beating, or maybe it was just the gravitational pull of Yasha, drawing Beau nearer to a better version of herself. But in that moment, the easy way out wasn’t an option.

“I don’t regret it.” She quietly said, fighting with every fiber of her being to keep her eyes locked on Yasha’s surprised ones. “I like you, Yasha, so much that it scares me, because I-I don’t feel like I can have nice things, like I deserve them, because I’m not a good person, and you could do so much better. But fuck, I have to try, or I’ll spend the rest of my days regretting it.” Beau continued, a burst of honesty fueling her to finally let everything out.

In the soft lights of Yasha’s living room, a surprised, yet earnest look could be seen clearly across her face, and a small smile graced her lips, making Beau breathe easy for the first time in weeks.

“You are a good person who deserves nice things, Beau.” Yasha started, reaching for the alcohol and pouring some on one of the towels, “This might hurt.”

Beau felt sharp stinging on her face, making her inhale sharply and hiss in pain, until, slowly, she settled into the rhythmic throbbing of her face.

“I like you too, Beau. And I’d love to give this a go, if you want to.” Yasha said after she was done sanitizing Beau’s wounds, putting bandaids and bandages on them.

“You do?” Beau asked, all stinging forgotten. She could die right now and be the happiest person that has ever lived.

“Yes. Please stop getting into bar fights though, I like your scars, but let’s not add to them.” Yasha teased, smiling fondly at the woman before her.

“I– Yeah, no more fights. Of course.” Beau said, unable to stop herself from smiling despite the fact that her jaw was starting to ache a little. 

“Good, good.” Yasha replied, pleased and a tad bit amused at the complete shift in Beau’s mood. “Now, let’s get you into something dry and tuck you in.”

They made their way into her room, and found Beau a sweater that reached all the way to her knees, which she changed to while Yasha went to fetch ice and whatever painkillers she had in her medicine cabinet.

When she returned, Beau was still standing up, weight mostly supported on the wall. 

“Why are you not in bed?” Yasha asked.

“I can’t take your bed, Yasha. I’m good with the couch.” Beau explained, nervously rubbing her arm, a habit she picked from Caleb.

“It’s my house, and I want you to sleep on the bed, come on.” Yasha said, taking Beau’s hand and leading her to the messy heap of pillows and covers, waving off her protests in the process.

After a few minutes of settling and arguments, Yasha turned around to leave, noticing how Beau was practically falling asleep as she fussed over her. However, she felt a small tug on her pinky, as a warm, small hand held onto her own.

“Stay?” Beau asked, so vulnerably that Yasha didn’t have the heart to deny her, so she nodded, and crawled into bed, a feeling of contentment blooming in her chest as Beau scooted closer, taking Yasha’s hand in hers before drifting off. 

For the first time in a long time, Beau didn’t feel like her life was so empty anymore.


End file.
